


The Universe Is Crumbling Around Us (But We're Still Here)

by R3noraDrake



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Post-season 7, basically word vomit lol, because season 8 never existed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 18:22:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17606543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R3noraDrake/pseuds/R3noraDrake
Summary: It would be generous to call the Coalitionsmall. Barely functioning and non-existent, that's more like it. Everything went to hell.And Lance and Pidge are right in the middle of it.





	The Universe Is Crumbling Around Us (But We're Still Here)

**Author's Note:**

> Post Season 7 because Season 8 NEVER happened. Earth lost. The universe went to shit. Yada, yada, yada, you know the drill. (I sense a constant motif in my writing, why is that?)
> 
> Oh, and also, an indirect thanks to Engineer104 for kinda sorta inspiring this fic with one of her alternate realities from Final Lifeline. I've read that fic waaaayy too many times and it makes me cry every time.

“Okay,” Pidge said, her voice curt and sharp, as soon as the door to their meager quarters shut. “What the quiznak was that?”

Lance frowned at her, his lips pressed into a tight, firm line. He ignored her and shouldered past her, sitting down on the bed in the corner of the room and tugging his boots off. “What the quiznak was what?”

“ _That!_ ” Pidge said, flailing her arms towards the door. “We can’t loose this alliance, Lance. We’re lucky they offered us a room and another quintent of negotiations before they kick us off-planet.”

Lance rolled his eyes and worked his forearm guards and gloves off, tossing them to the side. “Pidge, they didn’t even agree-“

“We’re working on that-“

“-and we’re wasting our time here.”

Pidge paused, completely taken aback. “What?”

Lance’s eyes flicked up to hers and he stared at her. “I said, we’re _wasting_ our time here.”

Pidge scowled and crossed her arms. “What do you mean, ‘we’re wasting our time?’ Lance, I just told you, we need this-“

“The Coalition has fallen a long time ago Pidge, they’re not going to agree.”

“How can you say that?” Pidge gasped, her heart aching at Lance voicing it so _flippantly_. Like it was nothing.

Lance stood up abruptly, throwing up his hands, “Look, Pidge, I know you want to find your brother, but trying to get the Pacyiur’s technology is too much of a stretch. The planet’s already in depression, what makes you think they’re going to join the Coalition? We don’t exactly have the greatest track record. _Half_ of our allied planets were completely decimated these past few deca-phoebs, the Lions are with the Galra, and the Paladins of Voltron are scattered around the universe _quiznak knows where!_ ”

“What are you talking about? _We’re_ Paladins of Voltron! And don’t you _dare_ bring up my brother in all of this. Don’t you want to find your family too?” Pidge demanded, taking a step forward.

Lance growled low in his throat, his teeth grinding audibly. “It’s been _six_ deca-phoebs since Earth was _destroyed_ , Pidge. Even if my family got on the Atlas in time, the Galra probably got to them in less than a quintent. They’re _dead_ , Pidge.”

“But Veronica-“

Lance strode across the room and grabbed her hands, his grip bruising. “Let go, Pidge. Just _let go._ ”

Pidge pushed him away, the adrenaline in her blood spiking as hot _rage_ flooded her veins. “This again, Lance? Really? I already _told_ you-“

“Pidge, if you’d just _listen_ to me for one _quiznaking_ tick-“

“No, _you_ listen to _me!_ ” Pidge boomed over him. “I can’t believe you seriously want to give up! So we can _what_ , find a peaceful planet and live out the rest of our miserable lives mourning for what we couldn’t save? You’re the one who always wanted to be the hero!”

Lance shook his head furiously as he ground out, “That was a long time ago, Pidge.”

_“We’re Paladins of Voltron!”_

Lance let out a frustrated yell and jabbed an accusing finger at her. “You keep saying that, but we’re _not!_ Not anymore! Not since the Lions were captured by Honerva!”

“Which is why we need _allies_ to get them back!”

“Pidge, I just want you to understand that I’m _worried_ about you. You haven’t been eating well for phoebs, and you barely sleep and you work yourself to death! Not to mention we’re always on the run because the Galra _always_ find us. Just. Let. _Go._ ”

“Our team could still be out there.” Pidge said, her voice low. “Our _family._ Our only family _left._ You just want to abandon them?”

Lance reached into the compartment in his armor – which he’d only half-stripped off – and pulled out a familiar-looking device. Pidge’s eyes widened as she recognized it – it was the transmission device she devised and built with Hunk literal _vargas_ before their Lions were captured. It was programmed to a secret, private, highly-encrypted channel, one only Matt could hack, and just _barely._ She and Hunk had entrusted each member of their team one of the devices as a means of communication between them, just before they scattered so the Galra would have a nearly impossible chance of finding them.

Deca-phoebs later and it has only been used twice – once by Shiro, and once by Allura, and both as emergency calls. Farewell calls. Pidge still didn’t know if they were alive, or if the both of them had died on their respective sides of the universe the moment after the transmissions were sent. She’d saved them on the device, and listened to their possible last-words at least twice a week with a heavy heart.

_“This.”_ Lance said, waving the device around. “We’ll give them coordinates and a time. We’ll find a calm, quiet planet on the outskirts of the universe, away from the Galra, and we can all live there together. _In peace._ Until we’re old and gray and we die and we won’t have to bother with the Galra ever again.”

“W-what?” Pidge whispered, at a complete loss for words. “Lance, you can’t be serious.”

Lance’s eyes flashed dangerously, his face the most serious she’s ever seen it, as he snapped abrasively, “What makes you think I’m not?”

“No,” Pidge said, shaking her head. “No, we’re not.”

Lance sighed hard, irritated. “Don’t play the brother card with me again, Pidge, you can program it to call Matt if-“

“Don’t talk about him, Lance.” Pidge snapped, cutting him off. She took a deep breath and rubbed at her temples, her anger and shock clouding her brain and making it hard for her to comprehend what was happening. “It’s not _right_ , Lance. The universe needs the Paladins, _Voltron_ , and we’re going to _abandon_ it.”

“Pidge-“

“This isn’t _you_ , Lance.” Pidge pressed on, a lump suddenly forming in her throat and refusing to subside. She swallowed thickly as apprehension and dread pitted in her stomach, “When the quiznak did you ever become so _selfish?_ ”

Lance paused for a moment, face contorting in a whole flurry of emotions that were too quick to decipher, before his shoulders slumped, his face crumbling. All traces of his anger gone in an instant and replaced with a painfully-familiar expression that despite her anger Pidge’s heart squeezed at. Lance looked so quiznaking _guilty._

The transmission device dropped to the floor and it shattered with an awful sound. Pidge flinched and she was about to retort that _great, now she has to fix that later_ , when Lance’s haunted voice beat her to it.

“You’re right.” Lance murmured, almost a whisper, as if he hadn’t noticed he’d just broken the only thing connecting them to their family. His eyes blown wide and hands trembling. “Holy quiznak… you’re _right._ ”

He backed away from her, a stark contrast to when he was towering over her just a few ticks ago, and sank onto the bed behind him. He buried his head into his hands and it was impossible to not notice his shoulders quaking.

A pang of pain shot through Pidge’s chest, and all her anger evaporated just like that. She made her way over to Lance and crouched in front of him, wrapping her arms around his head, pulling him to her chest.

He scrambled at her armor, trying to find purchase against the sleek metal (rebel armor as their Paladin armor had been destroyed long ago) and eventually buried his face into her undersuit at the base of her neck.

“I’m sorry…” he muttered, voice muffled and choked. “I’m so sorry…”

“Shh…” Pidge soothed, stroking his head and running her fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Lance only gripped her tighter. “I didn’t even realize… how the quiznak did I not…?”

“Shh…”

“I miss them.”

Pidge shut her eyes as she felt tears well. “I know.”

“The f-feeling of Red’s controls. H-her presence. Blue. The Castle. Hunk. Keith. Shiro. Allura. Coran. I miss them all so _quiznaking much_.”

“I know.”

“I miss when we were a-all a bunch of s-stupid teenagers struggling to get along and w-work together. When the only t-threat we had to worry about was _Zarkon_. Not Honerva, not every quiznaking c-corner we turn, not every shuttle we board, not every room we spend the night. Nothing like that. Just… just us. Just us, the Castle walls, and space.”

“I know.” Pidge’s voice cracked, and tears finally fell to streak down her cheeks.

“A-and I do want to s-save the universe, I _d-do._ But… with everything that’s b-been happening… my mind… I don’t know what I was thinking…”

“I get it.” Pidge whispered, rocking him gently. She sniffed, and swiped at her cheeks. “You’re worried. You’re scared to _death_ that you’ll loose everything, _everyone_. You want to take all the people you love, and just _run_. I get it. I’ve wanted to so many times, I’ve lost count.”

Lance’s breath hitched, and she continued, “But… it’s like what Allura said all those deca-phoebs ago. We’re Paladins of Voltron, _with_ the Lions or _not_. _We’re_ the defenders of the universe, and we’re the only ones who can save it. We have to… we have to at least _try_. Even when everything’s crumbling to pieces around us.”

A wet chuckle against her neck. “Why do you sound so much like S-Shiro right now?”

Pidge managed a small smile. “I learned from the best.”

Lance pulled back a little, pressing his forehead against hers. “Where would I be without you, Pidge?”

Pidge snorted. “Probably dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Correction: floating in space. We haven’t seen a single ditch in all the time we’ve been in space.”

Pidge laughed, then instantly sobered. “I’m sorry I yelled earlier. You… you were half-right. I do want to find Matt… _again._ ”

Lance nodded, closing his eyes. “I knew it.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No. I could never blame you.” Lance said. "Just cut down on the hours you work, okay? I hate seeing you so tired all the time."

Pidge nodded, "Okay, I'll work on it."

Lance nodded back, then sighed tiredly, “We… we need to stop fighting like this.”

Pidge ducked her head in shame. “I always start it. I’m sorry.”

“Like I said, I could never blame you. Things are really shitty right now. Honestly, when have they ever not been?” Lance wiped the last of her tear tracks away and lifted her head so honey eyes could meet ocean blue. “We need to stick together if we’re going to make it.”

“… I know.”

Lance chuckled lightly, a genuine smile splitting his face like a ray of sunshine slicing through darkness. “’I know, I know.’ Jeez, I get it Pidge, you’re smarter than me, don’t need to go telling me all the time.”

Pidge let out a choked laugh and smacked his shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”

Lance leaned forward, his intention clear, and she met him halfway, their lips meeting in a soft, tender kiss.

When they pulled back, Lance pulled her flush against his chest, his hold tight and firm, yet gentle and warm, “I love you, Pidge.”

Pidge clung to his neck and snuggled into the crook of his neck. “I love you too, Lance.”

The universe may be crashing down around them.

But they still had each other.

And somehow, they'll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> My needing-to-vent-about-season-8-through-writing word vomit. Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed!


End file.
